


Golden Years

by poetdameron



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/pseuds/poetdameron
Summary: In the middle of a stressing week, Hyde gets a call from home that almost makes him lose his cool. [Future fic].





	Golden Years

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! It’s Mother’s Day in Mexico and this fic asked to be shared. It’s been ready for long months since last year, but for one reason or another, I hadn’t had time to publish or let alone check it again. But today was the day! I’m really curious about what you guys will think about it.
> 
> So, happy Mother’s Day to those wonderful human beings out there! Enjoy!
> 
> If you liked this and you have tumblr, please consider rebloging the [original post](http://jacquelineshyde.tumblr.com/post/160532940630/kill-me-with-34) to support me! Thank you

**Golden Years**

Hyde’s day had been a nightmare.

Not only did Kelso and Brooke think it was a good day to have a big fight and leave their eldest daughter with him so they could resolve their crap alone, but the latest album shipment to Grooves was completely wrong. The distributor had screwed up his order, and he was the one who had to fix it.

He hated this part of being The Boss. He tried his damn best, but on days like this he wished he could still be the lazy kid in the basement. But nope.

Nowdays he was the owner of a growing chain of music stores that also supported small bands, giving them a chance to get heard. He was also a very stressed-out-at-the-moment husband and a very worried-for-the-past-week father.

“Uncle Hyde?” Betsy said. She was almost twelve-years-old and got bored easily. “Are we going to your house soon? I want to see Ally!”

“Almost,” he said and taped his complaint to the distribution company.

“You said that, like, a hundred hours ago!”

“Quit complaining, or I’ll take you to your grandma’s.”

“Ugh!” She lowered her head to his desk with a _thump!_ When she looked up again, she had a red mark on her forehead, and he smiled. No way he was telling her about it. “What if I take the bus to your house?” she said.

“Nope.”

“Argh!”

He shared her frustration. He wanted to be home, too. Jackie was there, hopefully relaxing and enjoying her last maternity leave. Their eight-year-old son and five-year-old daughter were helping her take care of their youngest, seven-month-old Alison.

But in his office at Grooves, he couldn’t relax. Jackie’s calendar was an open sore stinging his brain. It wouldn’t close until she wrote a giant _P_ under one of the days of the week. _Any_ day of the week, as long as it was soon.  
  
“Uncle Hyde?” Betsy said as the office phone rang.

“Mmm?”

“Are you almost done?”

“Almost.”

“You said that three years ago!”

“I really am gonna take you to your grandma’s!”

“ARGH!”

He looked at his goddaughter for a moment, a smirk on his face, before answering the phone. Grooves had two numbers, one for the store itself and one for his office, which meant this call could only be from family or important contacts. Eleven o'clock told him the caller was his son, Dave.

“Hey, buddy,” Hyde said.

“Dad, mommy says you have to come home, or she won’t leave the bathroom _ever_ again.”

“What?” He must’ve sounded strange because Betsy stared at him and blinked a few times.

“Mommy’s having a crisis in the bathroom,” Dave said.

“What?” Hyde repeated and shifted in his desk chair. Dave was always calm while talking, even when he was in trouble or reporting that one of his sisters was sick. He didn’t need to practice Zen; he was born Zen. “Dave,” Hyde said, “what’s going on?”

“Not much. Mommy doesn’t want to get out the bathroom because she’s going to traumatize me forever.” He sighed. “She wants you to come home.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know, but get here fast. Alison wakes up in, like, two hours or something. There’s no boob to give her.”

Hyde shook his head. “Dave, please, never say that in front of your mother.”

“There’s no titty to give her.”

“David.”

“Father.”

Just for a second, Hyde wondered how this kid got such personality. Then his giggle, loud and annoying, childish but full of mischief, reminded him who his mother was.

And who his father was.

“You sure she didn’t tell you what the fuss is about?” Hyde said.

“Nope.”

Why was his son such a little prick? “Good. Then ... do you know what the fuss is about?”

“Well, not really,” Dave said. “But the chair’s got blood all over it.”

“WHAT!?”

******

Silence greeted Hyde when he opened the front door to his house—until his eldest daughter, Layla, spotted Betsy beside him.

“Beeeetsssyyyyyyyy!” Layla ran into her cousin’s arms, and Betsy hugged her when Hyde stepped inside and closed the door.

He sighed, looking at them, then smiled. The house seemed just as he left it this morning: peaceful. But neither Jackie nor Dave were anywhere to be seen. He checked the dining room first. One of the chairs was missing, and Dave’s statement about blood being “all over it” became apparent. Red droplets stained the rug where the chair used to be.

The door to the backyard scraped open. He glanced toward it. Betsy and Layla were dashing to the dog, who waited for them outside with his tail wagging.

They’d be safe in the backyard, especially with the dog. Page would bark if the kids needed Hyde’s attention, and he rushed up the stairs to the second floor.

Maybe Jackie was safe, too. If Dave was able to keep his cool, how much danger could she be in ... unless she’d kept the truth from him. That sounded a lot like her. She was capable of acting fine as she broke down inside, just to ensure their kid’s happiness remained intact.

“Dave?” he called in the hallway.

“In your room!” Dave shouted back, and Hyde followed his voice. 

The master bedroom’s door was opened and by the bathroom’s door, his kid was sitting, slumped in Hyde’s armchair and wearing a frown too deep for his age. He cared as deeply for his mother, as much as Hyde did.

“She’s been there for almost an hour,” Dave said and gestured at the bathroom.

“Just a second, man.” Hyde walked to Allison’s cradle, making sure the baby was okay.

The girl was deep asleep, no clue about the small drama around her. He smiled, caressing her small head and walking to the bathroom’s door. Sighing, he looked at his son first, who only shrugged, then knocked at the door.

“Steven?” Jackie said through the door. Hyde tried to open it, jostling the nob, but he stopped when she shouted, “NO!”

“Jackie, whatever it is, I can’t help if you don’t let me in.”

“Get David out of the room; then you can open the door.”

“What?” Hyde looked at their son, who shrugged. “Jackie? Are you okay?”

“NO!” she shouted again, and Dave looked at him with urgency. “TAKE DAVID AWAY AND GET IN HERE!”

Hyde smiled apologetically. “Sorry, buddy. Your mom seems to be a little stressed.”

“Dad, she sounds like Aunt Donna.”

“I HEARD YOU, DAVID!”

“Okay, never say that in front of your aunt,” Hyde said, but Dave only nodded. “Make sure Layla’s okay, would ya? Betsy’s downstairs with her.”

“All right.”  Dave went to the bedroom door but didn’t leave. “Dad? Make sure mommy’s okay.”  
  
“Will do, pal.”

“I love you too, David!” Jackie shouted, and Dave’s cheeks went pink. He bolted from the room, and Hyde looked at the bathroom door again. “Steven?” Jackie said.

“Doll, what is going on?”

“I have good news and bad news.”

“Okay...”

“C-come in.”

He opened the door. Jackie was sitting inside the bathtub, wearing only her underwear. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked at him like she was a scared puppy. He suppressed a grin at the sight. His impulse was to pull her into his arms, but the room’s smell warned him to stay put, unless he wanted Jackie to kill him.

“So,” she said and hugged her legs to her chest, “I’m not pregnant.”

“Holy shit!” He laughed, unable to hold back his relief. “Look at this! It’s a crime scene!”

“Shut up! Just get the damn pads!”

He cupped his mouth but continued to laugh. It was the first time in over a week he’d had any laughter to piss her off with. When she’d first told him her period was late, they looked at each other for three panicked seconds. Then Alison started to cry, and the real world kept them moving, even while they waited for their luck to turn.

Jackie had always wanted three kids, no less and no more. She’d sounded so practiced when she first explained why: _“If one of our children  is a genius, the second one will feel bad if she isn’t. So we need to have a third one, who’ll  also be of average intelligence. That way we can have one happy genius and two happy dummies!’_

But now she didn’t seem prepared at all but ashamed, and he was having the worst time of his life, helpless to stop laughing at the scene in front of him—and about everything that had happened since they thought a fourth kid was on the way.

“Y-you don’t have pads?” he managed to say. “ So—so that’s why you made our son call me at the office–”

Water hit him in the face and cut off his laughter. Jackie had grabbed the tub’s hose and sprayed him.

“What the fuuuck?” He blinked water from his eyes, shook it from his hair.

“I have never, ever given you any problems with my period until today!” she said. “Now be a good husband and go get my pads!”

Another wave of laughter hit him. The situation was too damn hilarious. The tub wasn’t even stained with that much blood, but she pointed the hose at him again, and he put up his hands. “I’m going, I’m going!”

The bathroom fell into silence, and an excited murmur from downstairs reached them. The dog was clearly in the house again. He should’ve told Layla and Betsy to keep Page outside. Jackie didn’t like the dog being around the baby.

He sighed and walked toward the bathtub. His shirt and face were wet, and when he sat down on the bathroom tile, his ass became wet, too.

“And you’re in the tub because…?” he said.

Jackie didn’t answer. She was trying to cover the little blood on the tub’s floor. For what Dave had told him, she’d been in here for at least an hour. He reached over the lip of the tub when she finally looked up. His fingers caressed her blushing cheek, and she leaned into his touch with closed eyes.

“I never gave you problems with my period before,” she said. “No stains, no pad-problem—I always warned you when it was coming—and no pregnancy scares.” She sighed, opening her eyes and looking at him, obviously ashamed. “I’m a grown woman, and I just had a pregnancy scare after three wanted pregnancies! What is wrong with me?”

“Well…” His fingers tunneled into the softness of her dark hair. She sighed and closed her eyes again. “I wasn’t going to live forever thinking you don’t get your period,” he said. “Knew it would happen, eventually. Glad it was now when I can laugh about it and not when I’ll be all cranky–” She glared at him. “ _Crankier_ at everything,” he corrected. “We’re fine.”

“Maybe we are,” she said, “but I traumatized our kid for life! He saw the blood on the dining room chair and my clothes!”

He chuckled, but she showed him the hose, and he pressed his lips together to calm himself down. Then he sighed. “Dave is going to be fine. He was just worried about you. Once we explain this is normal and natural, he’ll be cool.”

“He’s eight, Steven.”

“Have you heard him talk?” Hyde stood up half-way, using the bathtub lip for support, and kissed her forehead. “I don’t think he’s eight,” he said and straightened up fully. “Maybe eighteen.”

“He’s my baby and will only stop being that when he leaves the house. GET MY PADS!”

“Yes, dear.” He sighed. “Just take a shower and relax, all right? I gotta change outta these clothes you hosed down.”

He left the bathroom, but before he could reach his dresser, he spotted the dog darting toward Layla’s room. The kids weren’t far behind, and he closed his bedroom door.

“Steven?” Jackie said from the bathroom. She was naked and had started the shower. “If the kids got the dog inside, please don’t tell me.”

“No problem.”

“Thank you, baby.”

He closed the bathroom door for her. Then he removed his wet clothes, put on dry ones, and went to Alison’s cradle. The baby girl was still asleep, hadn’t even move a bit. He kissed his finger and touched it to the top of her head. She could sleep through the most disruptive of noises, ability he both admired and envied.

His laughter returned as he went to the drug store for Jackie’s pads. This was what his life had become: driving home at full-speed, like Dale Earnhardt in the Winston Cup Championship, worried shit something bad had happened to his wife, and ending up having to buy menstrual pads for the first time.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

*******

******

*****

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! Maybe I'll see you on [my tumblr](http://jacquelineshyde.tumblr.com/)? Have a good day!


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